


How Much for a Miracle?

by SelenaEstella



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Family, Festive fic, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, lex-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5531822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaEstella/pseuds/SelenaEstella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a lonely Christmas Eve, Lex is walking the streets of Metropolis, and ends up somewhere--and with someone--unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Much for a Miracle?

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!! This is the second of three ideas I had, and the only finished one so far o_o It's a little rough around the edges, I expect; I might edit it more later, but I really wanted to stop putting it off and post it on Christmas (well... Christmas in England anyway). That being said... I hope you enjoy!!

The sun was setting on the snow-sprinkled streets, disappearing behind the towering skyscrapers on its way towards the earth. Bitter cold was creeping in in it’s wake, getting ready to settle like the oncoming snow being blown in overhead.

It was Christmas Eve--a happy time for many, children bouncing with excitement, parents relaxing by the fire, a peace falling in the wake of the pre-Christmas shopping rush. It could be bliss for everyone, though--children in orphanages lay of home, adults struggled to make ends meet, and in alley ways homeless men and women huddled around fires through just another winter night.

Had anyone been watching from their windows, a rather rare sight would have greeted them: Lex Luthor, bundled in his long black coat and slate-grey hat, striding along the sidewalk, alone. While the resident Prince of Metropolis often went about his way with the rest of the city’s inhabitants, his growing fame made it unusual for him to be seen alone, without a bodyguard; even rarer was it for him to be out without his partner, even after their public engagement had made headlines.

But maybe it was a night for loneliness.

Most if not all shops were shut, or at least closing for the night. Those hurrying home after the last, worst shifts paid no attention to whoever they were passing, focused instead on getting home before night truly started. Lights flickered and died, streetlamps the only illumination, moon covered by the cloud. Lex walked, gloved hands deep in his pockets, staring at the ground just a few feet ahead of him, and thinking.

Christmas. Christmas time again, as he had been reminded since October. Bright colours and dancing lights; a time of warmth and cheer and… family.

Lex snorted derisively into his scarf. The good memories he had of Christmas were hazy at best, the vague knowledge that it had once been enjoyable, before his mother had died. After that it had become little more than a blip in the calendar, a religious event at the most, as if Lionel had ever been what anyone would call a ‘steadfast Catholic’. A few affairs beneath your belt, Lex mused, and any true belief has been rather swept off to the side. Or been put into cold storage for use in motivational speeches, at least.

Glancing at his watch, Lex blinked in surprise. It had gotten pretty late; his walk had lead him much further than he’d intended, and glancing around, Lex realised he had very little idea where he was and nobody to ask for directions. Hand on his phone, Lex made to call Clark, but…

He’d rather not.

Walking to the end of the street, Lex looked around, not really hoping for anywhere to still be open. He could call a cab, he thought, but would much rather be inside or moving than standing out in the cold, waiting. He was about to turn around, maybe have a go at navigating his way back, when Lex did a double-take.

A tiny shop on the corner that Lex hadn’t even noticed, still had it’s lights on, warm glow giving a promise of warmth. Amazed that he had missed it, Lex hurried over, hoping he could catch the owner before they left. The shop’s name seemed to be simply ‘Merry Christmas!!’, alternating red and green letters painted in an old fashioned sort of text above the window, illuminated by a row of small spotlights. To Lex’s mounting awe, a flashing yellow sign proudly announced the store as ‘open’, and Lex decided to take advantage of the owner’s lack of haste and quickly got inside.

It was like being punched by Christmas.

Tinsel of all colours, sizes, lengths, and designs covered every possible surface. Those few that had escaped fell prey to silver bells, holly wreaths, and lengths of twisting ivy. There was every size of Christmas tree, from miniature models in the window display to one which towered to the ceiling in the center of the shop, its branches adorned with crystalline icicles, shimmering baubles, ceramic robins perched within the branches and a myriad of things that glittered and shone.

Sounds too, everywhere, although not as overwhelming--something rustled, something chirped, something chimed; a model train tooted as it passed by on a nearby table, making Lex jump as real steam puffed up from its tiny tin chimney.

Lex stood, mouth open, breathing in the scent of pine, sap, cinnamon, Christmas pudding, brandy and so many, many other festive things that filled the air all around him, blinking as he gazed about in astonishment, completely overwhelmed.

And it was _warm_ , incredibly so; enough that cold was just a memory and Lex was starting to sweat beneath his layers. He took off his hat, gloves and scarf, tucking them in his pockets, and walked further into the shop with an intrigue that bordered on horrified.

Rows of surprisingly tasteful Christmas sweaters took up half a wall to his left, right beside another row of traditional tack ones, set beyond shelves of scented candles. Billionaire habits kicking in, Lex headed towards the counter, which strangely enough was at the back of the shop and half-hidden by the Christmas tree, because surely the best and therefore most expensive items would be tucked away behind it. However, the shelves to his right stocked a charming display of nativity sets, from simple wooden carvings to detailed china models. Lex paused and, since there was no sign of anyone telling him to get out, decided he might as well have look around.

The shop was small, but managed to squeeze in a tremendous degree of stuff. There were china dolls, stationery, and various electric lights in cardboard boxes. The lower half of one wall was dedicated entirely to various sorts of reindeer; the upper half, model Santas. Nothing really caught his eye, however, until something shining right at the top of the towering center Christmas tree had Lex taking a few steps back, craning his neck to peer through the branches.

It was an absolutely gorgeous model angel. Eyes closed, silver hair drifting, it was poised as if it might take flight at any moment on soft, feathery wings. Delicate fingers were individually carved along the shimmering strings of a golden lyre. It’s white dress seemed to float and Lex could have sworn its chest moved at it breathed, for all the entire model was composed entirely of, it seemed, ceramic and glass. The beauty was really breathtaking; surely no human hands could create such… perfection,

Something rattled suddenly, jerking Lex out of his devoted trance. He turned; behind the counter was an archway obscured by hanging beads, and an elderly woman had just stepped through.

Her bob of hair was white, her skin was wrinkled, and she was plump beneath her Christmas cake sweater. Blue eyes blinked behind round, gold-rimmed glasses, and after a moment she smiled at Lex.

“I hadn’t thought we would get any more customers,” she said, with a faint accent Lex couldn't place. “Can I help with anything?”

Taking her sudden appearance in his stride, Lex gestured back to the tree. “How much for the angel?” he asked.

The woman’s smile turned indulgent. “We’re asked that a lot,” she said. “I’m afraid it’s not for sale. Besides, I imagine it would shatter into tiny pieces if we tried to get it down.”

“Oh, really?” said Lex, turning back to the tree and it’s beautiful crown. “How do you change the display, then?”

“This is a Christmas shop, young man,” the lady explained, “so fortunately we have never faced that dilemma.”

“That… doesn’t sound like a particularly sound business practice,” Lex said doubtfully. The indulgent smile returned.

“You’d be surprised,” was the reply, “besides, our busiest months tend to tide us over.”

Lex shrugged nonchalantly. “Fair enough.”

The woman leaned against the counter, glasses twinkling merrily in the millions of lights. “If you don’t mind me being nosy, I seems a little late for Christmas shopping…”

“I’m afraid I got lost while out walking. I originally came here to ask for directions.”

The lady looked… well, ‘flabbergasted’ seemed a good word. “Oh well I cannot allow you to walk back! Not this late in this cold, you’ll perish. How about you call a taxi, and wait here for it to pick you up?”

Lex thought for a moment before nodding slowly. He wasn’t about to wait in the cold when he had another alternative. “That would be very generous of you,” he said. “Thank you, uh…?”

“Call me Mary, dear.”

“Mary.” He held out his hand, “I’m Lex.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” said Mary, taking his hand between her warm, soft, wrinkly ones. “How about you come into the back and we'll have some hot chocolate?” Lex wasn't particularly fond of hot sugary drinks, but he saw no decent reason not to follow Mary behind the counter and into the back.

The space was small and cluttered, with bits of broken stock and various boxes smacked around, but it was clean. Mary went over to small kitchenette and got two (Christmas-themed) mugs out if a cupboard; meanwhile, Lex retrieved his phone and called his driver, giving the best directions possible under the circumstances and finishing with a description of the shop. By the time he was done, a steaming mug of cocoa was waiting.

Lex leaned gingerly back against one of the more solid piles of boxes, sipping. It was very sweet, but not quite sickly, and the chocolate clung to his mouth. The subtle bite of peppermint helped make it tolerable, and it was good to drink something warm.

Gazing once more around the room, Lex caught sight of a framed photograph, sitting on a dark green desk next to an old grey computer monitor with Christmas-themed stickers all over the back. Moving slightly to that the light was better, Lex saw two people, a man and a woman. One was obviously Mary, with her warm smile and bob of grey, although she looked younger and a little slimmer. Beside her stood a slightly older man, tall and round with a bushy grey-white beard. Both wore matching ‘Happy Holidays!’ sweaters, and their hands were joined in the center of the image, showing off gold rings.

“You’re married?” Lex asked, gesturing to the photograph. Mary lowered her mug, licking chocolate from her lip, and nodded.

“That’s Nick,” she said fondly. “He’s out tonight, unfortunately. He’d love to meet you if he weren’t.” Lex… doubted that, just a little, because Nick appeared chronically upbeat to an extent only rivaled by Clark, who was about the only optimist Lex could stand. And Clark… well…

“Family problems, young man?” Lex looked up sharply to find knowing eyes regarding him behind slightly steamed-up glasses. At his questioning look, Mary gently added, “you’ve been sighing all evening, dear.”

Maybe it was something in the drink. Either that or because he’d fired his latest therapist a fortnight ago, before it all really started, and this woman was just so damn… _motherly_. Like Martha Kent in a way. But for whatever reason, instead of focusing on how Mary could know he’d been sighing (or if she’d just guessed), Lex stared into his mug so he could pretend he was talking to it, not her, and started to explain.

“I had an argument with my partner,” he said shortly. The gold band on his ring finger gleamed, simple except for the inscription on the inside, pressed against his skin: _The stuff of legend_...

Risking a glance up, Lex found Mary nodding in sympathy. He looked down again and considered his words.

“Christmas for him is very special. He has a lot of good memories that make it hard to create new ones.” Lex chuckled sourly to himself. “Not to mention he always insists he doesn’t want or need what I plan to get him."

“Tough man to buy for, is he?” Mary said knowingly.

Lex scoffed. “You can say that again. Each birthday and Christmas I look all over, but unless you sell a cure for world hunger, an end to all wars, shelter for the homeless, or… He’s just… Infuriatingly selfless at times.” The richest man in Metropolis and Lex couldn’t make his husband happy. It was fitting, in a painful, ironic way. He sighed to himself. “So, unless you stock miracles, I’m afraid you can’t help me.”

“No miracles,” Mary said cheekily, “but we do have some very nice decorations on sale.”

Lex chuckled mirthlessly. He licked his lips, tasting sweetness. “...My parents in law are coming to visit,” he said after a moment, more to himself than Mary. “We don’t have the… best relationship.” An understatement. Last time they’d spoken, Kent senior had been about to punch him before Clark stepped in, and Lex had been fully prepared to retaliate.

And that was the heart of the matter, wasn’t it? Sure, Superman would be happy if he wasn’t busy over Christmas, but all Clark Kent wanted was for his family, his _whole_ family, to stay in one room for more than an hour without heads being bitten off. And, really, what chance was there of _that_ happening?

Lex jerked his head up, blinking heavy eyelids and not entirely sure what had just come over him. Looking back to his half-full mug, Lex decided he should probably put it down, and set it on the desk while Mary continued to sip her own drink, oblivious. Finding he now had nothing to do with his hands, Lex pushed them into his coat pockets for a second before withdrawing his left and checking the time.

Five minutes to midnight.

...Huh. Well, no wonder he was tired--Clark enforced strict bedtimes and Lex… well, he rarely complained.

“If I might be so forward,” Mary said suddenly, startling Lex, “sometimes, dear, you can’t wait for miracles. You have to make them happen yourself.”

Lex stared. The frames of Mary’s glasses gleamed gold in the light, and behind them her blue eyes, so _familiar_ all of a sudden, captured and held his own. Words dried up In Lex’s throat, and for a fleeting second he _knew_ \--

“Lex?”

He must’ve jumped about a foot in the air, going by Mary’s quiet giggle. Lex twisted sharply towards the archway.

“Clark!”

Beaming, Clark held the beads out of the way and ducked a little as he stepped into the room. Lex went to meet him and they embraced, Clark’s cheek warm against his despite the coldness of his clothes.

“Only you,” Clark began, drawing back a little but keeping hold of Lex’s elbows, “would go for a ‘short walk’ on Christmas Eve and end up miles away!”

“It’s a curse,” Lex agreed, repositioning Clark a little so they were standing side-by-side, arms around each other's waists. He turned to Mary, who had set her mug down and was smiling fondly, eyes twinkling.

“Mary,” said Lex, “may I introduce my husband, Clark.” His heart always gave a little squeeze when he said those words, partly in anticipation, but mostly out of pride.

Mary stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you, young man,” she said warmly, and Clark gave one of his best smiles as they shook hands. _Who needs model angles_ , Lex mused, then briefly entertained himself by thinking of Clark perched on top of their Christmas tree.

“Thank you for keeping Lex out of trouble,” said Clark, and Lex rolled his eyes at the old, playful argument.

“I can look after myself,” he protested, which Clark chose not to answer.

“Are you ok to leave?” he asked instead. “Uh, I don’t wanna rush but it’s pretty late and I think Francis would rather not be kept waiting.”

“I’ll give him a good bonus,” Lex promised, to which Clark rolled _his_ eyes. They both looked back to Mary, who had been watching their conversation with obvious amusement. “Thank you, so much,” Lex said sincerely, to which Mary waved a hand.

“It was a pleasure, dear,” she said, which Lex felt absurdly happy about. “Let me see you out.”

They wove their way back through the colours and sounds and smells and lights, and had just reached the door when Lex stopped, and turned around. He _couldn’t_ buy Clark’s happiness, but then again, he’d never tried to. He had seen _something_ he could buy, though…

“Turn around,” he told Clark, in response to his husband’s questioning look. Clark did so with fond exasperation, and Mary winked as she made her way to the till.

Lex walked to the display of Christmas sweaters. For many years, this had been a tradition he had refused to indulge in. So it had better be worth it.

He selected four of the ugliest, tackiest, traditionally awful sweaters on display, selecting size by memory and approximation, and carried them to Mary with a somewhat pained expression. Chuckling all the while, Mary scanned the tags and readied the till, and Lex entered his card without checking the price. Folded and bagged (with two gift receipts), Lex went back to Clark and took his hand and both of them leaned passed the Christmas tree to wave at Mary and call, “Merry Christmas!”

It was as if they hadn’t fought.

Maybe they hadn’t, and Lex really _had_ been overreacting.

When they got home after their warm, comfy car ride, Lex bypassed the bedroom and headed to his study--not the office one floor down, where he worked, but his private work-space, with his history books and collection of pens and a small Christmas tree in the corner, soft lights winking.

Lex took out pen and paper, and stared for a long time before starting to write.

It took him six drafts, but by the end, he was satisfied.

“Come to bed, Lex,” Clark called sleepily. Lex folded the paper and selected an envelope and wrote, neatly but plainly, without any unnecessary flicks and curls, ‘For Mr. Kent’.

He hoped that it would be enough.

The next day dawned bright, snow clouds banished from the sky. Lex awoke near the edge of their king size bed, pushed up against Clark who was in danger of falling off, limbs splayed everywhere but one wrapped snugly around Lex’s chest.

The digital clock read 8.30; Lex had a fleeting moment of panic before remembering it was Christmas.

Christmas…

And the Kents were arriving at 9.

Ah, crap.

A quick shower and breakfast (both with Clark) and a change of clothes had both of them presentable just before reception buzzed at 9.05. Since everyone, receptionist included, had the day off, Clark went down to greet his parents while Lex stayed upstairs, running a keen eye over the tree, the presents, the decorations, and had just enough time to realise he’d forgotten to label his last-minute additions before the door opened with a click and in came the Kents, chatting animatedly. Lex put on a smile.

Martha greeted him with a hug; Jonathan, a handshake. And Lex carefully pressed the envelope into his roughened palm.

The Kents settled before the fire while Lex got drinks, Clark and Martha talking eagerly, and Jonathan deep in thought as he stared at the letter in his hand. Swallowing his anxiety with a gulp of mulled wine, Lex carried the tray in from the kitchen and set it on the coffee table amid murmured thanks.

As he sat down, Jonathan caught his eye. He nodded, firmly, once.

Lex smiled in return as he sat back, Clark’s arm coming up around his shoulders and squeezing gently. He sensed more than saw his husband’s delighted smile, and started to relax.

Christmas… This Christmas was going to be alright.

 

\--

 

Dear Jonathan,

I hope that I am not too presumptuous in saying this, but I am doing it for your son. Despite all that has happened between us, and whatever differing views and opinions we have, I know that there is one thing for certain that we share: an undying love for and devotion to Clark.

Therefore, I ask you, that at least on this one day, for the sake of that love we put aside our own hate. It is with pure honesty that I say that I do not want to fight. I want this day to be happy, as it should be. So, for Clark’s sake at the very least… call it quits?

Yours faithfully,  
Lex Luthor


End file.
